Little Wonders
by CrazyPerson145
Summary: AU. Feliciano is a boy who can't let go. The first person he ever fell in love with died, leaving him alone, and he can't get over that, no matter how badly it hurts. Ludwig has never been in love. He's been misunderstood his whole life, and isn't willing to risk getting his heart broken. The last thing these two expected was to fall for each other, but fate works in strange ways.


I'm sorry to those who are waiting for me to update my other stories. I just can't, the writer's block combined with emotional issues has become overpowering. So I am now writing this story because I need to get this out in some form. I hope it doesn't suck as badly as most of writing does. I'm a horrible author. But I've just been feeling kind of depressed lately. If you actually care, (and you'd be the first non-family member to) I'll tell you in the Authors Note at the end. I don't feel like being creative with my disclaimer, so just know that I own nothing whatsoever except the plot. Here we go. (BTW, I don't know what Holy Roman Empire's human name is, so I'm calling him Adolf, ok? I'm calling him that because Adolf is the name of my little brother's boyfriend)

GENERAL POV

Sunlight streamed through the open window, filtering into thin beams that danced across Feliciano's olive-toned face and light auburn hair, arousing him from his light slumber and prompting him to open his amber coloured eyes. Moaning under his breath, he lazily rolled onto his side, his arm flopping limply onto his pink undershirt. He checked the clock and groaned. 8:10 a.m. Way too early to be up.

Sighing, he rolled onto his other side and pulled his yellow blankets up, shielding himself from the sun, and attempted to sleep once more. He had almost achieved his goal, when the loud bang of the kitchen door downstairs almost gave him a heart attack. Feliciano had barely had time to recover from that before his twin brother's loud voice shouted through the house.

"HEY FRATELLO! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE AND HELP ME WITH THIS SHIT!" Lovino shrieked impatiently from the kitchen. Feliciano heaved himself out of bed, grabbing onto his cluttered nightstand when his knees buckled from the unexpected weight, and groggily navigated himself through his messy room and trudged downstairs.

He was met with Lovino's usual pissed-off expression and ever-present scowl. Lovino was holding a large bag of groceries and snarling at his little brother, tapping his foot in impatience. Feliciano smiled at his fratello. He knew that even though Lovino beat him up, insulted him, made him cry, and said he hated him, deep down he loved him back. Lovino growled at Feliciano's smiling face.

"Oh mio Dio Feliciano! Did you seriously just get up you idiota?! Never mind that. Fucking help me already! I've been waiting for way to long, stupid! Get your lazy ass in gear and help me put these fucking groceries away. Today preferably." Lovino commanded, pointing angrily at the paper bags stuffed full of food Lovino had apparently just bought.

Nodding, Feliciano grabbed some of the food and began assisting Lovino with the tedious, [and much harder than it should have been] task of putting them away. Their kitchen was small and a bit of a natural disaster. Neither Feliciano nor Lovino ever willingly did the dishes unless it was becoming a serious issue, so the sink was full of dirty pots, pans, plates, cups and silverware. About half the pantry doors were swinging open, unable to close from the objects stacked haphazardly in them. Snack food wrappers, torn envelopes, random pages of the newspaper, and lord-knows-what else were strewn messily across the table, and the countertops had toasters, coffee makers, and other appliances carelessly placed on them in places where they probably shouldn't have been. [Heck, the blender was on the stove!] The lone light bulb in the lamp over the table flickered annoyingly, and the lamp itself hung from the unpainted, slightly cracked, and dripping in one area ceiling.

At one point Feliciano had stood on the countertops in an attempt to reach some of the higher pantries, and had to have a furious Lovino save him from cracking his head when he lost his balance and fell off. Lovino had screeched at him for that one, and slapped him as well, but they both knew it was just because Feliciano had scared him.

After what seemed like 3 hours, but was really more like an hour and 20 minutes, they had finally managed to put all the food away. Not neatly of course, but good enough.

Collapsing exhaustedly on the couch, Feliciano and Lovino just turned on the T.V. and watched football [or soccer for you Americans] for a while. Lovino naturally rooted for the team that was opposing Feliciano's favourite team, and smacked Feli with a pillow whenever he cheered. Lovino left for a couple seconds to grab a tomato from the fridge, and yelled at Feliciano for spreading his legs out into his spot. After shoving Feliciano off the worn and minorly stained couch, he took back his spot and once more began cheering for his team.

Feliciano pulled himself back onto the couch, rubbing his back and making sure to sit far away from Lovino's "spot". They watched a couple more games after that, stopping only briefly for lunch, which was of course, pasta. By the time they decided there was nothing else good on, [or in Lovino's words; "this is all just a bunch of shit!'] It was around dinnertime.

Consuming even more pasta for dinner [because enough, is never enough] Feliciano tried to start up a conversation with his brother, who promptly flipped him off and called him stupid. It was only silent for about 3 minutes before Lovino opened his filthy mouth once more.

"Figlio di Puttana! We have school tomorrow, dannazione! And it's already 9 fucking p.m.! Feliciano, why the hell didn't you remind me we had school tomorrow idiota?!" Lovino shouted at Feliciano, who shrank back and muttered an apology. Honestly, he had forgotten their first year of being High School Juniors was tomorrow. Or more likely, willed himself to forget. He was definitely not looking forward to that.

After a bit more yelling, both Feliciano and Lovino went to bed. Feliciano's room was just as bad, if not worse, then the kitchen mess wise. Dirty clothes were strewn about, [there was even a pair of boxer shorts hanging from the wooden ceiling fan] dog-eared books lay open upon many surfaces, the actual bookcase being used to house random objects, posters, photographs, and paintings hung from the peeling yellow walls, and his bed was made roughly once a year, if even that often.

Feliciano closed his door behind him, and jumped over piles of, well, stuff, to reach his bed. He did a flying leap and landed face first on his unmade bed, earning squeaks of protest from the old bedsprings. His smile disappeared, replaced with a look of distress. School was starting tomorrow. Sophomore year was when he had met the one person who had made him happier than he had ever been, and had managed to drive him to levels of sadness he had thought impossible.

No matter how much he knew that he had to let go, for some reason it was just impossible. Those icy blue eyes, that pale skin, gold hair, and stern face had been everything to him. Adolf, no matter how awkward or how imposing he was, had fallen in love with Feliciano, and Feliciano had fallen in love with him. Of course, just as everything seemed perfect, it had to go horribly, horribly wrong.

Feliciano remembered that fateful day. Adolf had gone off on a trip of some sort, and that was the last time Feliciano had ever seen him. Feli remembered the police officer calling him, he remembered the blind panic, the horror at seeing Adolf's deadly pale form, and the disbelief as the doctor grimly gave him the life-shattering news. Adolf was dead. He had been walking through the city, and was shot by a gang member who thought he was in an opposing gang.

He had refused to accept it. Every day Feliciano had stubbornly waited by the café he and Adolf would always meet at, stubbornly hoping with all his heart that Adolf would appear, apologize for the misunderstanding, and they'd just kiss, laugh it off, and go right back to the happy state they had been in.

That never happened.

Feliciano had cried and cried at the funeral, until there came a point when he could cry no more. The majority of the summer was spent in a numb, lifeless state. Feliciano had spent days just sitting by Adolf's grave, hoping that if he wished hard enough, if he just kept praying, that Adolf would come back to him.

He never did, and Feliciano had never felt more alone. Just when he'd finally felt whole, felt like the happiest person on earth, his heart was shattered into a million pieces, all by a single bullet. A funny thing, love. It can bring us unparalleled joy, unbridled happiness, it can give our hearts the ability to soar, and yet at the same time it can destroy you so utterly, so completely, that you feel as though you've died inside, and are left as nothing more than an empty, mournful shell.

When your heart breaks, if it grows back at all, it grows back twisted and darkened, to the point where you wonder if you will ever feel joy again, or if all your future holds is a grey haze of tears and mourning.

Eventually Feliciano had begun to smile again, returning to his usual cheerful self, which relieved everyone. No he was not over it, not even close, but he knew that he couldn't stay like this forever or he too would die. And Adolf wouldn't want that.

Wrapped up in his dark memories, Feliciano didn't notice when the glowing green numbers on his digital clock changed to show 11:00. He barely even noticed as the skies let out a, BOOM louder than cannon fire, and he was usually terrified of thunderstorms. Instead, he simply let the sound of the rain, which was coming down in sheets, lull him into a sleep filled with dreams of icy blue eyes and drawings with funny legs. (A/N: Because remember how Italy told HRE that he had drawn the leg weird in Chibitalia?)

THE NEXT MORNING

The rain had stopped by the time Lovino unceremoniously woke him up with a kick to the face and a loud shout of: "GET UP IDIOTA! WERE GONNA BE LATE GOD DAMMIT!" All that was left to show any signs of there having been rain at all were grey, cloudy skies and deep puddles of muddy water virtually everywhere along the suburban streets.

Lovino was already dressed in a khaki coloured t-shirt with matching pants and dark brown Birkenstock sandals. His dark auburn hair was brushed for once, and his trade-marked scowl was still there. Feliciano on the other hand, was still wearing his pink under shirt and yellow boxer shorts. He was barefoot and his hair looked like a rat hand made a nest in it. Lovino yelled at him for not being ready, and then proceeded to cook breakfast for himself. Feliciano just grabbed some cereal and munched on it, staring blankly out the back window at the large, wet green trees that danced with the wind's playful hand.

Upon Lovino's shouted command, Feliciano dragged himself upstairs and got dressed in a simple blue T-shirt, jeans, and light brown Birkenstocks. He ran the brush through his hair half-heartedly, before putting brush back onto the cluttered mess that was his dresser, grabbing his red white and green backpack and heading downstairs to where Lovino was waiting impatiently.

Together, they stepped out of the house and onto the soaked porch, the wooden door slamming loudly behind them, before walking down the puddle-ridden sidewalks to the bus stop.

They didn't have to wait very long before the huge, bright yellow, earsplittingly loud monstrosity known as the school bus pulled up at the stop. The doors swung open and the Italian twins climbed onto the grated steps, grabbing the metal railing for support and heaved themselves into the bus.

Inside it was chaos. Kids were talking a mile a minute to friends they hadn't seen over the summer, catching up on whatever supercool things it was they had done with their families and whatnot. All the clamour combined into a migraine-inducing, head-splittingly loud tidal wave of sound that hit the Vargas brothers like a tsunami to the eardrum. Wincing and covering his ears, Feliciano made his way to the nearest open seat three rows down. He plopped himself upon the torn brown seat and stared out the window, pressing his cheek up to the frigid glass that was decorated with raindrops. Lovino sat beside him, but as far away as possible and ignoring him, as if desperately trying to pretend they weren't related.

The ride to school was long and loud. Sure it was only about 15 minutes, but with the horrid noise caused by chattering students, it felt like much longer. By the time they actually pulled up to the stocky, brown-bricked building, Feliciano had a headache that felt like there was a marching band dancing around inside his head. A marching band with axes for feet.

As much as he wanted to get off the bus, he had to wait for the other students to get off so that he wouldn't risk getting trampled. However, once he got off, Feliciano smiled in his usual bright way. So what if the bus ride was hell? This was school! This was where he could make some new friends, where they had the library, the football field, [Again, soccer for you Americans] music class, and his favourite subject; art class.

Oh man, just thinking of getting his hands on those paintbrushes again made his grin widen. To the onlooker, Feliciano looked like the poster child for optimism.

He skipped to his locker, number 233, with his sandals slapping the ground with every bounding step he took. Reaching his locker [though he had to climb a large flight of stairs first] he wrestled with his combination lock. He knew his combo was 9, 39, 12, and yet for some reason it just up and refused to open.

Finally, Feliciano succeeded in prying open his stubborn locker, and he happily dumped his backpack inside, after of course, taking out his history textbook. He pinned his schedule up inside his locker with one of those cute little magnet things he had gotten at office depot. His schedule looked something like this;

First period: History

Second Period: Literacy

Third Period: Math

Fourth Period: Science

Fifth Period: Lunch

Sixth Period: French

Seventh Period: Art

Eight Period: Physical Education

After closing his locker, Feliciano headed down the hall towards Mrs Greene's room, just as the student stampede started. Eyes widening, for he knew what happened to those who were caught in the middle of those, he tried to manoeuvre (A/N: Not sure if that is the right word or not, but spell check kept yapping at me) out of the way so he wouldn't be killed in the wave of people. No such luck.

Feliciano was jostled, pushed, shoved, and even knocked off his feet by the wave of students. His head hit the floor painfully and he yelped, but no one noticed, they were too busy talking/trying to get to class. Tears formed in his amber eyes. Feliciano had always been sensitive to pain, and that freaking hurt! He just lay there numbly. Oh Dio! Was he bleeding? It felt like he was bleeding!

Feliciano sobbed softly, and closed his eyes. Damn people were brutal when they had some place to be! (A/N: I would know. I've been knocked over in the halls so many times, both on purpose and on accident that I've lost track) His eyes opened when he heard a loud voice above him.

"What the hell people?!" Bellowed a loud, accented voice. It was probably just someone trying to get to class is what Feliciano originally thought, but when he opened his eyes, he saw a tall, muscular blonde guy heading….. Towards him.

At this point everyone else had gotten to class, so the guy was probably just yelling in general. He walked over and knelt down by Feliciano, concern obvious in his crystal blue eyes. Feliciano found himself staring into them. They were so clear and deep, they reminded him of the sky on a beautiful spring day. Feliciano imagined he were a small bird, taking flight in the deep, pure blue sky that was somehow captured beneath this boy's eyelids. Said blue-eyed boy's voice snapped Feliciano out of his thoughts.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a worried tone. His voice was deep, heavily accented, and gruff, yet Feliciano didn't find it intimidating. Instead, he found it likeable. After all, Adolf had been the same way… No! Stop! Feliciano forced himself to stop thinking of Adolf, instead focusing on the blue-eyed boy.

"I don't know. Someone shoved me! Oh Dio, my head hurts!" Feli moaned. He knew he was being pathetic, but he couldn't help it! Pain radiated from the back of his head, making it almost impossible to focus on anything else.

Brow furrowing even more, the blue-eyed boy pulled Feliciano into a sitting position, muttering an apology when Feliciano whimpered. His sky blue eyes widened when he actually saw the damage.

"Schizer! How hard did you hit your head?! You're bleeding!" He hissed.

Feliciano moaned slightly. So he was right! His head was bleeding! Not like it was a good thing, but it just confirmed his suspicions. He barely noticed when the boy picked him up as easily as one would a bad of apples and carried him down the hall to the nurse's office.

Still kind of dazed, Feliciano just leaned into the boy, resting his head on the muscular shoulder and inhaling. He reached his hands up and grabbed onto the grey fabric of the boy's coat, clinging to him like a little child to a parent.

The nurse freaked out at seeing Feliciano's injury, which made sense considering a bleeding anything is typically not a good sign. The nurse put some kind of weird liquid on the wound before bandaging it up. Feliciano hardly noticed, instead he was staring at the blue eyed boy, who stared back intensely. He looked just so much like Adolf…. Feliciano's thoughts were bought back to the matter at hand by the boy's gruff voice.

"What is your name?" He asked. It took Feliciano a second to answer.

"Feliciano Vargas. What is yours?" He was after all, curious to know the name of the person who had pretty much saved his hide.

"I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt." The boy, Ludwig, stated simply, not breaking eye contact with Feliciano the whole time. Feli nodded. Okay then.

The two sat there simply staring at each-other for a few minutes before Feliciano leaped up and hugged Ludwig, who was taken by surprise. Moving fast had sent another wave of pain to Feliciano's head, but he did his best to ignore it. Deep down a voice whispered that it was wrong, that he shouldn't be hugging anyone other than Adolf, but he had to show his gratitude somehow.

Surprisingly, Ludwig lifted his arms and wrapped them around Feliciano's back, returning the somewhat awkward hug. They didn't know how long they stayed like that, but neither particularly wanted that moment to end.

(A/N: And here is chapter one. I'm sorry it was horrible, I'm the worst author on earth. I utterly suck. And, I did promise I'd tell anyone who cares, [Though I highly doubt anyone does] why I'm depressed so I'll say it now. My little sister died. We all knew it was going to happen. She had an issue from birth, though we don't know what it was, and we knew that there was nothing we could do, we knew that she would die, and yet it still hurts. Her name was Bella, she was only 5 years old, and she was the biggest sweet heart ever. She would sit by you if you were sick, she would dry your eyes with her little hands when you cried, she'd lay with you on the couch all the time, she loved playing soccer even though her disability prevented her from properly playing, and she loved to shout at the bad guys on cartoons. She was kind of an airhead, but super sweet and loving. She died yesterday night, in her sleep. It was horrible to walk into her room and find her little body not breathing anymore. To put your hand to her face and find it cold, to find the cheery light in her dark eyes extinguished, leaving behind lifeless stones. Worse still, she had a 3 year old sister with the same disease as her. We figure it's genetic, but we adopted them both so we don't know what. The sister's name is Chloe, and she couldn't understand what was happening. It was utterly heart breaking to watch her hug Bella's body to her chest and stare into her dead eyes, childish innocence convincing her that her big sister would just wake up. So yeah. If you're wondering why I'm depressed, there ya have it. Goodbye for now, and please, please, please, PLEASE comment.

Auf Wiedersehen,

-C. R.)


End file.
